


Who Is In Control?

by sadgirlsclub



Series: 5SOS Song Preferences [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sad, Schizophrenia, Song: Control (Halsey), Suicide Attempt, sorry this is so angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28344684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadgirlsclub/pseuds/sadgirlsclub
Summary: "Goddamn right, you should be scared of me. Who is in control?"In which Michael's troubled mine keeps deceiving him and believes the only way out is death.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Series: 5SOS Song Preferences [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037964
Kudos: 5





	Who Is In Control?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a triggering one which talks about suicide, self harm, and depression! Please read at your own risk.

Michael hates time. He doesn't have much of it and the little time he does have left is running out fast.

The quiet ticking of the clock placed on the bedside table in his and Calum's room reminds him that the remnants of his mind is a corpse of what it used to be. The hollow onyx of the night dawns on every shadow that lurks within the darkness and crushes the remaining sanity he once had left. The slight creaking of the hallways makes his palms sweat and the gun that he clasps within them suddenly makes the cool metal almost slip from his grip.

His eyes are bloodshot, sunken in and darting back and fourth from the hallway before once again focusing on the object in his hands. He is restless as he sits on the edge of the bed, bare feet touching the wooden floor beneath him as he looks over at Calum's empty spot, awaiting his arrival home from another late night shift at work. His side is still perfectly made due to how much he would complain when Michael would mess it up. Michael smiled lightly at the thought. In all honesty, he didn't mind -- that was just Calum's perfectionist personality coming through.

Apart from the quiet people coming in and out of the apartment complex outside the door, Michael's silent cries are the only things that can be heard in the almost silent apartment. He stares at the gun in his hand, twisting it again and again and repeatedly putting the object to his temple before dejectedly removing it. He repeats this process several times over.

The temperature of the room has dropped dramatically. What was once the cool, breezy air of a summer's night now feels like the suffocating cacophony of a barren and bleak midwinter in England. The dramatic decrease in temperature makes Michael shiver and his deceased mind worsens.

He clutches his head in his hands, pulling at his blue hair (which is laden with silver strands) letting the soft whimpers of, "they're coming for me", fall from his hoarse voice, like a broken record player on repeat. He knew what the consequences would be if Calum didn't return home soon -- he'd either turn violent or he'd take that bullet to his head. Most likely the latter.

Calum was Michael's coping mechanism. He helped the monsters in his head disappear for awhile, helped his mind rid the dangers that controlled and took over, making him do awful things that Michael didn't want to usher in fear of them happening again. He hadn't always relied on Calum. Before, he had taken the more violent approach, lashing out and destroying things, even people and sometimes harming himself in the process.

That changed upon meeting Calum. The boy helped him regain some of the last remaining sanity he still had and would clutch him in his arms, whilst his body convulsed and he screamed about the villains that lived inside of him.

Michael was diagnosed with schizophrenia when he was twelve years old after losing his parents in a car accident. He had always blamed himself for their deaths, always let the crippling anxiety and guilt eat away at his shrouded mind and convinced himself that their spirits were out to get him. Since then, Calum's been helping him get by.

Calum deals with many of Michael's _episodes_ but none as severe as this. It's as if someone else has taken over his body completely and he is fighting to keep them away, to make sure they wouldn't do anything Michael would regret.

He comes home that night, clad in a thin jacket and his usual attire of jeans and a sleeveless band shirt. Slipping his keys in the lock, he toes off his shoes once inside and makes his way to the kitchen but stops when he notices the small patches of blood dotted around the kitchen counter. His eyebrows furrow in confusion before he's rushing up the stairs, well aware that Michael is having an episode again.

There Michael is, sat on the bed, a piece of paper which looks to be a suicide note next to him. Calum can see the blood staining the once white paper as well as the sheets, which lay crumpled and messy due to Michael's restlessness. His left arm is coated in the same crimson substance as he clasps the shotgun in his right and his eyes are blank, deadly, staring at Calum with an empty expression.

Even in the darkness with the only light coming from the downstairs kitchen, Calum can see the dried tear stains on his cheeks. Chunks of blue hair are scattered beside his feet from pulling it too hard and yanking it out. He can see the hollowness in his eyes, the dead and unwavering look and it terrifies Calum because he has never seen Michael in this state.

_The person sitting in front of him is definitely not Michael._

Calum gets over his initial shock and carefully, oh so very carefully, extends his hand out towards Michael. Even though he is terrified, Michael is in danger and he needs to help his boyfriend, the love of his life.

"Give me the gun, Michael," Calum ushers in the softest voice he can muster, not wanting to startle the boy. He's aware that's he there physically but mentally his mind is somewhere else.

"They begged me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead," Michael's voice is broken, barely above a whisper. His face is blank as he still stares at Calum with a deadly expression, his once light green eyes now an ugly shade of black.

Calum stares back at his broken boyfriend. His heart breaks from how destroyed Michael looks, how his illness has taken over once again and Calum knows that they can't keep carrying on like this. Michael needs professional help because Calum isn't a psychiatrist and he can only temporarily get rid of the villains crawling around in Michael's mind.

With very cautious steps, Calum steps closer to Michael, eyes fixated on the gun in his hand. Michael watches his every move, dead eyes turning his head to watch Calum. He bolts up suddenly, watching as Calum looks at him with terrified eyes and he smirks.

He comes towards Calum who staggers back into the wall. Calum knows this isn't his Michael right now, this is another personality which has taken over his body.

Michael stops.

His blank eyes and twisted grin make Calum shake. In all the years he has known Michael, never has he had an episode like this. This isn't terrifying, this is a whole other level. Calum feels sick, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, clenching and unclenching at the prospect of what Michael is going to do next.

Before Michael can do anything else, he cries out in a strained voice, "Please, stop Michael, this isn't you. You're scaring me."

That's when Michael loses it. His fist comes flying towards Calum's face but he dodges just in time for it to go colliding into the wall. He screams out and retracts his hand, violently wailing, "I can't help this awful energy!"

He yanks at his hair, kicking the wall, screaming repeatedly. The scene is heartbreaking for Calum to watch. He no longer feels scared. He just feels sadness and exhaustion watching the person who he loves so much break down right in front of him and knowing he is incapable of doing anything.

"Goddamn right you should be scared of me! Who is in control?!"

Calum isn't sure if he's talking to him or whatever has taken over his body. He's sure it's the latter.

By now, Michael has dropped the gun and he's thrashing around violently on the floor. Calum grabs it, quickly turning the safety on and throwing it under the bed before he's running over to Michael and rocking the two back on fourth on the wooden floor.

He strokes his hair gently, letting Michael come down from his high as the pale boy clasps his shirt tightly in his grip, sobs racking his body. They sit like that for a few hours, well into the early morning with Calum muttering softly, "you're okay, they can't hurt you, I won't let them hurt you."

Michael knows he isn't okay as he lays in Calum's arms that night and he's come to accept that. He's going to get the help he needs as he realises that he almost killed Calum and himself tonight.

He will not let these villains win. He's bigger than his body and he will not let his schizophrenic mind run free anymore.


End file.
